LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. I 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



SONGS FROM THE PARSONAGE 



And the Spirit mid the bride say, Come. 
And let him that keareth say, Come. And let 
him that is athirst come. And whosoever 
ivill, let hifn take the water of life freely. 



SONGS FROM 
THE PARSONAGE 



^ 



FRANCIS BOTTOME 



NEW YORK 



ir %^' 



ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH AND COMPANY 

(incorporated) 
182 Fifth Avenue 



\ ^ ' \^ 







Copyright, 1894, 

By Anson D. F. Randolph and Company 

(incorporated). 



Hntbersitg ^itss : 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 



DEDICA TION. 

This little book, echoes of a life that has 
passed into fuller life, will, I hope, prove 
grateful to the inaiiy frietids to whofn my 
husband wrote in the supreme moments of 
their joy and sorrow. I am sure many would 
have contributed to the volume had they been 
called upon to do so; but from 7ny own 
collection I gladly share ?ny mo7C7'nful joy. 

Margaret Bottcme. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Sketch of Francis Bottome 15 

Make Haste to Pray 27 

LoVe of Jesus, all Divine 30 

Oh, Sing of His Mighty Love .... 32 

Invocation 34 

Blessed Jesus, let Thy Presence ... 36 

God of our Fathers, Thee we Praise . 38 

Gentle Jesus, Meek and Lowly .... 40 

O Love of God, thou Ocean Vast ... 42 

Enter, Lord, this House of Prayer . . 44 

One in Jesus 46 

O Thou Exalted Son of God 48 

Sweet Rest 50 

We Praise Him on the Sea 53 

O Thou God of Grace and Glory ... 55 

Prisoner, in thy Dungeon Drear ... 57 

Praise ye the Lord ! Ye Seraphs, Praise ! 59 

Lord of Heaven, who once in Mercy . 61 

Light out of Darkness ....... 6^ 

Consecration 66 



X Table of Contents. 

PAGE 

Jesus Walks the Waves to Thee ... 68 

The Kingdoms of the World are Thine jo 

Thou who once in Jordan's Waters . . 72 

The Day of God 74 

From Strength to Strength 76 

Thy Will be Done . , 78 

Welcome, Gracious Saviour ..... 80 

I Long for Rest ^2 

The Comforter 85 

Search me, O God ♦ . 87 

The Surrendered Powers 89 

Easter 93 

Hail the Blessed Easter Morning . . 95 

Love's Easter 97 

Easter Morning 99 

In His Name loi 

Thanksgiving 103 

O Thou, our Father and our Friend . 105 

Christmas 108 

Bring Gifts no 

Peace 113 

New Year 115 

A Psalm of Praise 117 

The Opening Year 119 

My Soul looks forward to the Hills . 12: 

A Silver-Wedding Song 123 

A Bridal Memory 127 

Thfy Say I'm Thirty-five i-lo 



Table of Contents. xi 

PACK 

Fading Flowers 135 

Death is so Strange 138 

Make Room, ye Angel TirRONo ! . . . . 140 

Five Watchmen from the Walls . . . 142 

In Mamie's Memory 144 

Heaven and Earth, how Wide Apart . 148 

A Burning and a Shining Light . . . 150 

The Empty Rooms 152 

Philip Embury 154 

Rest Awhile 156 

Leaves from an old Locust-tree . . . 159 

The Banner of the King 164 



FRANCIS BOTTOME. 



Francis Bottome was bom in Belper, 
England, May 26, 1823. The changes in 
streets and buildings which have taken place 
in the last fifty years, in such a town, are not 
so striking as the change in the people, in 
their dress and manners and education. A 
beautiful miniature of his father and mother, 
in possession of his nephew, Mr. Henry 
Radford, gives evidence of the strength and 
culture of the stock from which he sprang. 
His mother was a silent, reserved woman ; 
and a letter which he wrote to her in her old 
age is as respectful and courteous in tone as 
such letters were, early in the century. Chil- 
dren in those days honored and revered 
their parents. His father's lightest word was 
law. A beautiful boy, of poetic tempera- 
ment and weakly physique, he shrank from 
the coarse sights and sounds of the town, — 
the carousing, bear-baiting, and unseemly 



1 6 Francis Bottome. 

groups of men who fought and drank on the 
village green. He came under the religious 
influence of his superintendent, the village 
doctor, who, when my father was a lad of 
fifteen, gathered in his own house a number 
of young people, to pray for their neighbors 
and to set going influences for the better- 
ment of the place. It sounds incredible, 
but I had the story from my father's own 
lips, that this little group of pious people 
were refused the Holy Communion by the 
vicar of the parish church, because they 
met together for prayer without his per- 
mission. 

A reader of Tyerman's Life of Wesley 
will remember that in the early twenties 
this was the rule rather than the exception. 
So he was driven to worship with those who 
were leading godly, righteous, and sober 
lives, and he soon became prominent as 
a temperance reformer, writing temperance 
hymns, and speaking to the crowds col- 
lected on a Saturday afternoon at the public 
houses. 



Francis Bottome, 17 

The following extract from the minute 
read before the Methodist Preachers' Meeting 
at its service memorial of my father, tells in 
brief the story of his life from that time of 
his early youth : — 

" When eighteen years old, he heard a sermon 
preached in the Wesleyan Chapel by an Indian 
missionary, the Rev. John Sunday. The truth 
of the text, ' Behold the Lamb of God, which 
taketh away the sin of the world,' was proclaimed 
with such simplicity and power as to produce a 
profound impression on his mind. He yielded 
to the awakening summons of the Spirit, and 
soon after, at a Wesleyan cottage prayer-meet- 
ing, found the peace and hope of a joyous con- 
fession. His zeal instantly flamed out in every 
direction. People began to talk about him as 
of one certain to become a preacher. He felt 
in his soul what he himself characterized as the 
' stirrings of a strange call which he could not 
and dared not interpret.' While sorely per- 
plexed as to what it all might mean, a Wesleyan 
preacher, W. T. Nelson, called to him suddenly 
across the chapel, one evening, ' Come up here, 
Brother Frank. Preach ! ' Hardly knowing 
what he did or why he did it, but feeling he 
must obey, he came to the front, and poured 

2 



1 8 Francis Bottome. 

forth the emotions of his startled yet trusting 
spirit. When at the close of the service Mr. 
Nelson said to him, ' It will be at your peril if 
you do not follow the call of God and preach,' 
the warning was emphasized by his own deepest 
convictions. 

" He put himself in training at the school of 
the Rev. Dr. Jackson, and forthwith took up 
the study of theology with great zest. Receiv- 
ing a local preacher's license, he was put upon 
the plan of the Belper circuit, under the super- 
intendence of the Rev. T. Rowell. 

"He deliberately broke away from the tradi- 
tions of his family. Moved by the influence of 
the great Indian missionary, he earnestly de- 
sired to preach the gospel to the American 
Indians, and leaving his native land, came to 
Guelph, Canada. He was soon assigned work 
on an Immense circuit. Here he commended 
himself to all by his incessant energy and 
patient endurance of terrible hardships. At 
the end of one year his health was so broken he 
came to New York to again cross the sea that 
he might die on his native soil. On the day of 
his arrival he visited Bishop Janes, who be- 
came his dearest and intimate friend through 
all his ministry ; and it was he who said the last 
prayer, as the pure spirit of the loved Bishop 
passed into the ineffable light. 



Francis Bottome. 19 

" In away singularly and impressively marked 
by providential intervention, he was brought 
under the care of a skilful physician, who not 
only placed him on the road to recovery, but 
introduced him to the Rev. W. H. Norris, 
pastor of Sands Street M. E. Church in Brook- 
lyn. He accepted the position of assistant 
proffered by Mr. Norris, and rendered most 
valuable service. Part of the work assigned 
him was to take charge of the minister's class. 
Of that class one of the most devoted members 
was the daughter of a man conspicuous in 
the history of Brooklyn Methodism, WiUiam 
McDonald. Margaret McDonald was then 
arresting attention by her many gifts and loyal 
faith. , . . They were married in Sands Street 
Church by the Rev. Dr. Nathan Bangs, Sep- 
tember 17, 1850. . . . 

" During part of the year 1849, ^^ the sugges- 
tion of Bishop Janes, he took work under the 
presiding elder at Rahway, N. J. In the spring 
of 1850 he was admitted on trial in the New 
York East Conference, and sent to South- 
ampton, Long Island. His successive appoint- 
ments until 1870 were Saybrook, Meriden, Nor- 
walk, Birmingham, Hempstead, Grand Street 
(Williamsburgh), Seventh Street (New York 
City), Bridgeport, and Beekman Hill (New York 
City). In 1870 he was transferred to the New 



2 Francis Bottome. 

York Conference, and served the following 
churches : Yonkers, Seventh Avenue (New York 
City), Marlborough, Tarrytown, Tuckahoe, As- 
bury, Tremont, and Fordham. His ministry 
was accompanied by the most convincing 
demonstrations of God's favor. Thousands 
were led by him to their Saviour, and wherever 
he went the spiritually minded were refreshed 
by the draughts he brought them from the 
living fountains. 

" In 1873 Dickinson College conferred upon 
him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. 

" His love for his native land grew stronger 
with the increase of years. ' The older I get, ' 
he said, 'the more I love the old country, and I 
often think I should love to finish my days in 
England.' How soon that yearning was to be 
satisfied! On the 20th of June, 1894, he sailed 
from our shores, accompanied by his eldest 
son and his family. On the 27th he arrived 
at Southampton ; on the 28th he visited 
Exeter, where, listening to Evensong in the 
Cathedral, he found himself lifted to a peace 
and rest of soul, 'like Heaven,' he said. That 
evening he journeyed to Tavistock, where pre- 
cious memories of those he loved filled his mind 
and found expression in his last beautiful letters. 
Early on the 29th he walked to Brook Cottage," 



Francis Bottome. 21 

on a public footway skirting the Tavey and 
shaded with overhanging elms, the beautiful 
home of Sir Edwin Arnold's sister, a dear friend 
of his eldest son. On his return to the Bedford 
Hotel he wrote to a beloved member of his 
family: ' If I see no more of Old England, I have 
taken a morning's glory never to be forgotten.' 

" Presently the cherished friend of his youth, 
the Rev. Edwin Orme, came to meet him. 
They walked together to the old churchyard, 
and gave themselves up for an hour to the com- 
munings of tender reminiscence, and the holy 
mysteries of spiritual experience. ' Then,' says 
Mr. Orme, ' we started for my home in Calling- 
ton, Cornwall, as happy as any two men could be. 
. . . We jogged along, talking over the way the 
Lord had led us, when Dr. Bottome said, " But 
only think of all who await us ! They are near 
even now, and in a short time we shall see 
them ! " ' Just then the pony stumbled and fell to 
his knees. Mr. Orme's attention was diverted. 
When he turned again, he saw that Dr. Bottome 
had fallen out of the pony-cart, having stood up 
as the pony stumbled, and being probably over- 
come by a sudden attack of vertigo. He was 
entirely unconscious^ and in four hours was set 
free, — 

, *' ' In conscious salvation to sing of His grace 

Who lifted upon him the light of His face.' 



2 2 Francis Bottome. 

" He was buried in the beautiful cemetery 
lately given by the Duke of Bedford to Tavis- 
tock. His body rests in English soil; in Heaven 
his spirit awaits us. 

"It was only the other day that he left us, and 
it is no effort to recall the traits of one so well 
beloved. Slight in physique, dressed in strictly 
clerical garb, dignified in bearing, disciplined 
in mind, scholarly in taste, spiritual in speech 
and tone, courteous to every one, ' gentle and 
not fearful,' firm in his convictions, courageous 
in utterance, steadfast in the loyalties of friend- 
ship, clear in the vision of faith, he emphasized 
and enforced the truths of the gospel he so 
loved to preach by the charm of a life harmless 
and undefiled." 

Only those who in their thirst dip in the 
cup and drink of the liV^ing water from the 
well, remember and appreciate its grateful 
nourishment. The rest pass on, and await 
their time of need, and another supply. 
Many who read these Poems will recall the 
hour when they spoke peace and comfort 
to their souls. They were gifts, my father's 
way of giving joy. I know of those who 



Francis Bottome. 23 

have treasured his verses written for their 
weddiiig-day, as if they had been a benedic- 
tion. Others, when they were sad and 
would not be comforted, have re-read in 
after years verses which brought a ray of 
hope to their gloom. 

There is an Eastern legend of a rich 
prince who dressed himself in mean attire, 
and going to the bazaar opened his box 
and spread out on the table costliest gems, 
shouting to the crowd that he would give 
them to any who would receive them. But 
no one came forward. No one believed they 
were real. It sometimes happens that a 
modest, simple, reserved character is so 
treated in the market-place ; but it finds 
those who prize its gifts and love the giver in 
hours of personal communion. My father's 
loveliest hours, hours when the light was on 
his face, were spent at his desk writing to 
those he loved ; and to his children, when far 
away, his letters invariably brought his spirit, 
— they were so full of love, so tender, so 
wise, so heavy with sympathy. And how 



24 Francis Bottome. 

many have shared this generosity ! Letters 
are gone out of fashion. Some of them are 
type-written, and have only a friend's hur- 
ried signature. But in the old-fashioned 
round style of handwriting, — every "i" 
dotted, every " t" crossed, — all my father's 
letters proved that he gave his time and skill 
to this labor of love. So it happened, be- 
cause of this life-long habit of giving his best 
thoughts to those he loved, that in his last 
hours he wrote letters which those who re- 
ceived them will always prize, and, dying? 
leave as a rich legacy unto their issue. 

It is our wish that when this little book, 
containing a few verses, the outcome of love, 
falls into the hands of old friends, they may 
catch his smile, and pass on, joyful in the 
recollection ! 

" For there are faces in the hurrying throng 
Which bless, and leave us grateful for their smile." 

W. M. B. 
October, 1894. 



POEMS. 




MAKE HASTE TO PRAY. 

RISE, my soul, and sing 
To God, thy Saviour King, 
Thine early lay; 
Rise on the wing of prayer, 
Thy waking thoughts to bear, 
And so with grace prepare 
The opening day. 

While yet the purple light 
Fringes the robe of night, 

Haste to His throne; 
Before corroding thought 
Her baneful work has wrought, 
With earnest purpose fraught, 

Seek Him alone. 



2 8 Make Haste to Pray. 

As He, the Son of Man, 
His daily work began, 

So let my feet 
Some Hermon's dewy sides, 
Where solitude abides, 
And God alone resides, 

Make swift retreat. 

Wait on the Lord thy God, 
Lean on His staff and rod; 

And on thy head 
Shall more abundant grace, 
From His uplifted face. 
Like morning's purest rays 

Be richly shed. 

Prepare the altar fire 
With freshest, pure desire, 

An incense sweet ; 
Bring with thee words and plead, 
And He will surely heed, 
And answer all thy need 

In blessings meet. 



Make Haste to Pray. 29 

Wait early on the Lord, 
Wait on His holy word, 

At break of day ; 
Lo, God is waiting there, 
Waiting His love to share, 
Waiting to hear thy prayer, — 

Make haste to pray. 



LOVE OF JESUS, ALL DIVINE. 




^OVE of Jesus, all divine. 
Fill this longing heart of 
mine, 

Ceaseless struggling after life, 
Weary with the endless strife. 
Saviour, Jesus, lend Thine aid, 
Lift Thou up my fainting head ; 
Lead me to my long-sought rest, 
Pillowed on Thy loving breast 

Thou alone my trust shalt be, 
Thou alone canst comfort me; 
Only, Jesus, let Thy grace 
Be my shield and hiding-place: 



Love of Jesus f all Divine. 31 

Let me know Thy saving power 
In temptation's fiercest hour; 
Then, my Saviour, at Thy side 
Let me evermore abide. 

Thou hast wrought this fond desire. 
Kindled here this sacred fire, 
Weaned my heart from all below. 
Thee, and Thee alone to know ; 
Thou who hast inspired the cry. 
Thou alone canst satisfy ; 
Love of Jesus, all divine. 
Fill this longing heart of mine. 




OH, SING OF HIS MIGHTY 
LOVE. 

H, bliss of the purified! bliss 

of the free ! 
I plunge in the crimson tide 
opened for me ! 
O'er sin and uncleanness exulting I 

stand, 
And point to the print of the nails in 

His hand. 
Oh, sing of His mighty love, sing of 

His mighty love, 
• Sing of His mighty love, — mighty to 
save! 

Oh, bliss of the purified ! Jesus is 

mine. 
No longer in dread condemnation I 

pine; 



Oh, Sing of His Mighty Love. 33 

In conscious salvation I sing of His 

grace 
Who lifteth upon me the light of His 

face! 

Oh, bliss of the purified! bliss of the 

pure! 
No wound hath the soul that His blood 

cannot cure; 
No sorrow-bowed head but may sweetly 

find rest, — 
No tears but may dry them on Jesus' 

own breast. 

O Jesus the Crucified! Thee will I 

sing! 
My blessed Redeemer! my God and 

my King! 
My soul filled with rapture shall shout 

o'er the grave, 
And triumph. in death in the Mighty 

to save. 




INVOCATION. 

jUTHOR and object of our faith, 
The sacred gift impart ; 
And whatsoe'er the Scripture 
saith, 
Engrave it on the heart. 

Remove from every soul, and mine, 

The heavy veil of sin ; 
And by the power of grace divine 

Let there be light within. 

Let there be light, that we may see 

The vision waiting long; 
And all Thy promises shall be 

The joy of every song. 



Invocation. 35 

Come as an all-consuming fire, 
Come as the rushing wind; 

Till, purged from every base desire, 
Sin leaves no trace behind. 

Come as reviving breath of spring. 
Come as the gentle showers; 

And to our yielding spirits bring 
Young life's redundant powers. 

Spirit of Faith ! come down and bless 

Thy waiting saints to-day; 
And on Thy chosen witnesses 

Thy mighty love display. 

Spirit of Faith ! our faith command, 
And that shall honor Thee; 

And all the gifts in Thy right hand 
Shall our possession be. 




BLESSED JESUS, LET THY 
PRESENCE.! 

LESSED Jesus! let Thy pres- 
ence 
Like a cloud of incense fall; 
Where Thy servants meet to praise 
Thee 
Let Thy blessing crown us all ; 

Come and bless us, 
While upon Thy name we call. 

Here in life's young manhood gathered, 
Offering all our lives to Thee, 

Who for us, in early manhood. 
Gave Thy life upon the tree, 

Let our offering 
By Thy love accepted be. 

1 At a Y. M. C. A. reunion. 



Blessed Jesus, let Thy Presence. 37 

With Thy yearning pity, Jesus ! 

With Thy love for human kind, 
Nerve our earnest hearts for labor. 

Gird us with Thy patient mind; 
Never tiring 

In the work we daily find. 

Then at last, when, life declining. 
As the shades of night appear, 

On Thy loving breast reclining, 
Find we rest from labor there ; 

And Thy blessing 
Be our bliss in heaven to share. 




GOD OF OUR FATHERS, THEE 
WE PRAISE. 1 

OD of our fathers, Thee we 
praise, 
For all Thy mercies' store; 
And here our Ebenezer raise, 
And gratefully adore. 

The long, long line of witnesses, 
Through sixty summers gone, 

With joyful heart and tongue confess 
The wonders Thou hast done. 

Here at the altar where we kneel 
They found Thy saving grace ; 

And still to us Thou dost reveal 
The shining of Thy face. 

1 Willet Street M. E. Church reunion, 1886. 



God of our Father Sy Thee we Praise. 39 

Our fathers' God their children own 

Forevermore the same; 
And still to coming days make known 

The glories of His name. 

The ensign lifted up of yore, 

Above our temple wave; 
And still our song forevermore 

Be Jesus' power to save. 




GENTLE JESUS, MEEK AND 
LOWLY. 

ENTLE Jesus ! meek and lowly, 
Once a child in humble state, 
Hear us as we bow before Thee, 
Now upon Thy throne so great. 

Gentle Jesus ! 
Let Thy meekness on us wait. 

Gentle Shepherd ! kind and tender. 
Come within our fold and rest; 

Lo ! Thy people gladly render 
Unto Thee their first and best: 

Gentle Shepherd ! 
Let Thy presence make us blest. 



Gentle Jesus, Meek and Lowly. 41 

Gentle Saviour! pure and holy, 
To this earthly dwelling come; 

For a covering spread Thy glory 
O'er us like a circling dome; 

Gentle Saviour! 
Come to this our Sabbath home. 

Gentle Master! take our service, 
Thou who countest deeds by love ; 

Thine the goodness. Thine the merit, 
Ours the bliss the joy to prove : 

Gentle Master! 
Seal our offering with Thy love. 




O LOVE OF GOD, THOU 
OCEAN VAST. 

LOVE of God, thou ocean vast, 
Unfathomed, unconfined, and 
free, 

Unchanging through the ages past. 
The same through endless years to 
be! 

We wait upon the boundless strand 
Till all our souls thy waves o'erflow. 

And eager stretch our human hand, 
Love's all resistless power to know. 

Unmerited thy fulness lies. 
The gift unspeakable and free; 

Its source the only sacrifice, — 
The open wounds of Calvary. 



Love of God, thoii Ocean Vast. 43 

By faith we plunge beneath the flood, 
And wash our guilty stains away; 

By faith we hide ourselves in God, 
And rise in Him to endless day. 

Oh, let thy mighty billows roll 
In ceaseless, unexhausted grace, 

Till reaching every sinful soul 
It lifts to heaven a fallen race. 




ENTER, LORD, THIS HOUSE OF 
PRAYER. 

TPIOU whose temple all the 

space 
Of boundless infinite confines, 
We thank Thee for the matchless grace 

That still to human love inclines. 
While angel and archangel praise 

Thy glorious name in highest heaven, 
Thou dost not spurn the feebler lays 
From lips of sinful mortals given. 

The gold and frankincense and myrrh. 
And rich men's gifts of after years. 

Compared not vi^ith the love of her 
Who washed the Saviour's feet with 
tears. 



Enter, Lord, this House of Prayer. 45 

So less may gilded fanes bespeak 
To gathering throngs Thy dwelling- 
place, 

Than where Thy fervent people seek, 
In humbler shrines, Thy sacred face. 

But whether high or lowly roof, 

Or cedar wall, or meaner fir. 
Thou wilt not, heedless, stand aloof 

From any humble worshipper. 
Then enter. Lord, this house of prayer 

Which human hands have raised for 
Thee; 
Oh, let Thy love Thy people share, 

And here Thy grace and glory see. 




ONE IN JESUS. 

OLY Dove! Thy wings expand 
ing 
Bend in mercy o'er us now; 
All our hearts Thy love commanding, 
Lo, before Thy throne we bow : 

One in Jesus, 
Let us only Jesus know. 

Holy Ghost, Thy comfort bringing, 
Come to all with healing balm. 

As on Galilee the Master 

Hushed the tempest into calm. 

One in Jesus, 
Every hand should bear a palm. 



One in Jesus. . 47 

Holy Spirit, fount of goodness, 

Let the purifying fire 
Kindle now our warm affections 

Till to Thee the flame aspire: 
One in Jesus 

Shall be every soul's desire. 

This our only bond of union, 
This our shibboleth of peace, 

At the cross in sweet communion 
Seek we only love's increase. 

One in Jesus, 
He, the Lord, our righteousness! 




O THOU EXALTED SON OF 
GOD. 

THOU exalted Son of God, 
High seated on the Father's 
throne ! 

The gifts, the purchase of Thy blood, 
To us. Thy waiting saints, make 
known. 

Come, Holy Ghost, all sacred fire! 

Come, fill Thy earthly temples now: 
Emptied of every base desire, 

Reign Thou within, and only Thou. 

rhy sovereign right, Thy gracious 
claim. 

To every thought and every power, — 
Our lives, to glorify Thy name, 

We yield in this accepted hour. 



O Thou Ex.1 1 ted Son of God. 49 

Fill every chamber of the soul; 

Fill all our thoughts, our passions 
fill; 
Till under Thy supreme control 

Submissive rests our cheerful will. 

'T is done! Thou dost this moment 
come: 

My longing soul is all Thine own; 
My heart is Thy abiding home ; 

Henceforth I live for Thee alone. 

The altar sanctifies the gift; 

The blood insures the boon divine: 
My outstretched hands to heaven I lift, 

And claim the Father's promise 
mine. 

Now rise, exulting rise, my soul ! 
Triumphant sing the Saviour's 
praise; 
His name through earth and skies extol, 
With all thy powers, through all thy 
days. 




SWEET REST. 

H, ye that are weary and laden 

of soul, 
Come, come to the fountain 
that maketh you whole. 
There 's peace in believing, there 's rest 

in His name, 
There 's healing for all in the blood of 

the Lamb. 
Rest, rest, sweet, sweet rest; 
In the bosom of Jesus there only is 
rest. 

Oh, cease from your anguish, ye toilers 

for life. 
For vain is your labor and fruitless 

your strife : 



Sweet Rest, 51 

No hope can they bring you, no joy to 

your heart ; 
None, none but the Saviour can resting 

impart. 
Rest, rest, sweet, sweet rest; 
In the bosom of Jesus there only is 

rest 

Then come to the Saviour, ye weary 

and worn ; 
Your burdens and sorrows for you He 

hath borne. 
No anguish that pierceth but pierced 

Him before, 
No thorn is so sharp as the crown which 

He wore. 
Rest, rest, sweet, sweet rest ; 
In the bosom of Jesus there only is rest. 

Rest, rest, blessed Jesus ! oh, sweet rest 

at last, 
Like calm on the ocean when tempest 

is past ; 



5 2 Sweet Rest. 

The morning light breaketh in joy from 
above, 

And illumines my soul with His rain- 
bow of love. 

Rest, rest, sweet, sweet rest; 

In the bosom of Jesus there only is 
rest. 




WE PRAISE HIM ON THE 
SEA. 

NE song of praise, one voice of 
prayer, 
To Thee, O God, be given 
Who reign eth over earth and sea, 
And in the highest heaven. 

To-day the thousands on the land 
Before Thee bend the knee, 

And we Thy holy name revere 
Upon the mighty sea. 

Thy love, so like the waters vast, 

Unmeasured, unconfined. 
Surrounds, upholds, and bears us all 

Through calm or stormy wind. 



54 ^^ Praise Him on the Sea. 

Before this wondrous page of Thine 
How small our thoughts appear, 

Where every impress is divine, 
Proclaiming God is near. 

Here then we bow, and bless Thy name. 
Our God, our Father, One; 

Our only creed, our only hope. 
The merits of Thy Son. 

And so as well on ocean paths 

As on the land we sing. 
With holy psalm and sounding voice, 

The praises of our King. 




O THOU GOD OF GRACE AND 
GLORY. 

THOU God of grace and glory, 

Robed in everlasting light, 
Lo ! the seraphs bowed before 
Thee 
Veil their faces in Thy sight; 

How shall sinners 
Hope to worship Thee aright? 

Dust and ashes, shame and sorrow, 
Well become our sinful state; 

Midnight darkness cannot cover, 
For, O Lord, our sin is great ; 

But Thy mercy ! — 
On Thy mercy. Lord, we wait. 



56 O Thou God of Grace and Glory. 

Lo ! beside Thee, ever pleading, 
Stands the Man of Sorrows there! 

There for sinners interceding, 
See! His hands a ransom bear; 

By that ransom 
We Thy holy presence dare ! 

Yea, Thou bid'st me come with bold- 
ness 
While the rainbow spans the throne. 
All is mercy now and goodness; 
In the ever blessed Son 

All is mercy, 
God in Christ and Love are onel 




PRISONER, IN THY DUNGEON 
DREAR. 

RISONER, in thy dungeon 
drear, 
Sweetly, calmly, take thy rest ; 
Lo ! thy great Protector near, 
Who thy slumber can molest ? 

Clanking chains and bolting door. 
Vaulted cell and solid walls. 

Are but shadows on the floor 
Where the light of heaven falls. 

Foes of God may join their hands. 
Princes proud their wrath declare, 

But no strong confederate bands 
Can withstand the breath of prayer. 



58 Prisoner, in thy Dungeon Drear. 

All night long, and through the day^ 
Breathing in the ear Divine, 

Meet in Mary's house to pray 
Friends of Jesus and of thine! 

Sleeper, lo! thy light has come; 

Lo, the Angel of the Lord ! 
Hie thee to thy quiet home, 

Back to freedom and his word. 

Vain the guardsman at thy side, 
Vain the prison walls to thee, 

Vain the keeper's watch and ward; 
Who can hold whom God sets free ? 




PRAISE YE THE LORD! YE 
SERAPHS, PRAISE! 

RAISE ye the Lord! Ye 
seraphs, praise! 
Ye Cherubim, with veiled face 
Prostrate his august throne before. 
Praise ye the Lord, — praise, and adore ! 

Praise Him, ye angels, praise the Lord ! 
Ye swift-winged heralds of his word, 
Through all creation wide declare. 
Through earth and sky His praises 
bear! 

Praise ye the Lord, ye saints in light ! 
Ye blood-washed throngs in robes of 

white, 
Your victor palms in triumph raise, 
And fill the heavens with loudest praise ! 



60 Praise ye the Lord! 

Praise ye the Lord, ye saints below ! 
From every lip His praises flow; 
Let heart and tongue and voices raise 
Through all the world one song of 



praise 



Let bird and beast and creeping thing, 
And all that breathe, in praises sing; 
Let earth with her ten thousand 



tongues 



Praise Him, to whom all praise belongs ! 

Praise ye the Lord, wind, sea, and air! 
All elements, His praise declare! 
All instruments in one accord, 
Praise ye the Lord! Praise ye the 
Lord! 




LORD OF HEAVEN, WHO ONCE 
INMERCY.i 

ORD of heaven, who once in 
mercy 
Didst on earth as man abide, 
Drawing close, by deeds of kindness, 
Wandering sinners to Thy side ; 

Let Thy goodness 
On our gathering now abide. 

By Thy blest example teach us 

Self and sin to crucify; 
Earnest workers in the vineyard, 

Where the fields all open lie, 
Let us follow 

In Thy path, to do and die. 

1 Y. M. C. A. Inaugural. 



62 Lord of Heaven, who once in Mercy. 

Arm us with Thy tender spirit ; 

Arm us with Thy loving zeal. 
We would all Thy love inherit ; 

We would all Thy pity feel, — 
All embracing, 

Sweeping to the gates of hell. 

Seal, O Jesus! seal our mission, 
Send us forth with life divine ; 

This the seal of our commission, — 
Souls redeemed, forever Thine. 

Let Thy blessing 
Like a halo round us shine. 




LIGHT OUT OF DARKNESS. 

GOD, my God ! for Thee I pine, 
For Thee my thirsty soul is 
faint; 

When wilt Thou cause Thy face to 
shine, 
And heal at once my sad complaint ? 

Bowed down with sin and shame I 
moan, 

Burdened with consciousness of guilt ; 
I loathe myself, — a wretch undone ! — 

Yet Thou canst save me if Thou wilt. 

See where I lie in ashes low; 

Nor can I rise till Thou appear: 
I must be free, but cannot go 

Till Thou pronounce my pardon clear. 



64 Light out of Darkness. 

I do not, would not, hide from Thee ! 

Thy searching glance has laid me 
bare; 
And yet for that I cannot flee, 

But still for this I make my prayer. 

Oh, bitter sweet! this cup I drink 
Brings blessed healing while it kills, 

And, strangely rising while I sink, 
My soul with heavenly rapture thrills. 

Low down where sin and judgment 
meet, 

I meet the ransom of my soul; 
While flowing from the mercy-seat 

The cleansing waters make me whole. 

Abounding Grace! Oh, can it be 
That God and I are reconciled ; 

That grace hath set my spirit free, 
And I, the ransomed, made His 
child.? 



Light out of Darkness. 65 

O God, my Father, hold me fast, 
Nor let me from Thy grace remove ; 

By day, by night, from first to last. 
Hold me in Thine eternal love. 




CONSECRATION. 

EE, Lord, before Thine altar 
bowed 
Prostrate my humbled soul, 
Till from above the mercy cloud 
Thy voice shall speak me whole. 
Oh for descending fire, 

Oh for the hallowing flame ! 
Come, Holy Ghost, my heart's 

desire; 
' I plead in Jesus' name.. 

A willing sacrifice at last 

Myself to Thee I give; 
The weary, painful strife is past: 

I die that I may live. 

I yield Thee all my hallowed powers. 

Thine only will I be; 
Contented if I may but know 

Thou giv'st Thyself to me. 



Consecration. 6 7 

Poor, sinful, vile, my offering lies, 

Yet is it all my store; 
Nor wilt Thou, Lord, the gift despise, 

Nor spurn the contrite poor. 

Yet not for these, but for Thy Son, 

That better sacrifice ! 
Oh, to my longing soul send down 

An answer from the skies ! 

Be hushed, my soul! a breath from 
Heaven., 
Soft as the gentle breeze : 
" Thy prayer is heard, thy suit is given. 
And Jesus whispers peace." 
Oh, purifying fire, 

Oh, sanctifying flame, 
Oh, Holy Ghost, my soul's desire, 
Now mine through Jesus' name! 




JESUS WALKS THE WAVES 
TO THEE. 

^UFFERER, tossed in mental 
anguish, 
Buffeted on life's dark sea, 
Oh, do not despairing languish ! 
Jesus walks the waves to thee. 

Toil in rowing through the midnight, 
Ply thy stroke with firmer hand; 

Not the billows' dread commotion 
Can His word of peace withstand. 

Through the darkness thick with terror, 
Let not fear distress thee sore; 

What though evil spirits crowd thee, 
Christ is nearer evermore. 



Jesus IValks the Waves to Thee. 69 

Still afraid and wonder-stricken, 
Do thine eyes to fear incline? 

Nay, what image wouldst thou liken 
To that human form divine? 

Seems it strange that stormy billow 
At His presence should subside, 

Stranger than that at His bidding 
Loaves and fishes multiplied? 

Nay, for shame, poor trembling weak- 
ness ! 

He is nearer than thy fears; 
Stronger than thy doubts His meekness. 

Only thy distress He hears. 

Sufferer, tossed in mental anguish, 

Buffeted on life's dark sea. 
Oh, do not despairing languish! 

Jesus walks the waves to thee. 



THE KINGDOMS OF THE 
WORLD ARE THINE. 



HE kingdoms of the world are 
Thine, 
The forces of the sea; 
And all the multitudes of men 
Belong, O Lord ! to Thee. 




Thy sovereign right far as the day 
Or night enwraps the earth. 

Wherever human heart can pray 
Or human life has birth. 



Thy regal claim the world shall own, 
And every tongue confess 

That Jesus is the Lord alone, 
The King of righteousness. 



The Kingdoms of the World are Thine. 7 1 

Not long, O groaning earth, not long 

Ere He returns again, 
With all His Father's mighty throng 

In majesty to reign. 

Till then let every bounding heart 

With ready sandalled feet 
Be swift as on the wings of love 

Its coming Lord to meet. 




THOU WHO ONCE IN JOR- 
DAN'S WATERS.! 

HOU who once in Jordan's 
waters 
Didst Thyself Thy mission 
seal, 
Grant to these, Thy sons and daugh- 
ters. 
Thy blest presence to reveal. 
These, Thy tender love possessing, 

Turning from the paths of sin. 
Thee, their Lord and God, confessing. 
Wait till Thou shalt make them clean. 

Following where Thy footsteps lead 
them, 

Plunging in the watery grave, 
By Thy resurrection glory 

Let them know Thy power to save. 

1 At a Baptism. 



Thou who once in Jordan's Waters. 73 

Let them rise to holy living, 
Put on Christ, their life divine. 

And henceforth, in glad thanksgiving. 
In Thy glorious image shine. 

And on all Thy people waiting 

Send the Spirit from above; 
Every heart anew creating 

In the fervor of Thy love. 
While with one accord and spirit 

Comes before Thee one desire, — 
Of thy tender mercy hear it ! 

Lord, baptize with holy fire. 




THE DAY OF GOD. 

ILL it come, the day of God, 
When the curse shall be re- 
moved ? 

Will it bring the vengeful rod, 
Or the voice of the Beloved ? 

.Sure as the eternal throne 

Stands the promise of His word: 

He shall make His glory known; 
All mankind shall hail Him Lord. 

What doth hinder.^ — hate of hell. 
Strife of men, and greed of lust; 

But more wonderful to tell, 

Waits the Patience of the Just! 



The Day of God. 75 

God's long suffering standeth still, 
Mercy pleading with the foe! 

But who shall resist His will 
When He lets His fury go? 

Burning like a furnace flame, 
Fed by wrath that cannot spare, 

See the glory of His name 

Rising, spreading everywhere. 

Oh, before that awful day 
Let our dark rebellion cease; 

Let us meet Him in the way, 
And His coming shall be peace. 



FROM STRENGTH TO 
STRENGTH. 



s^ 




ROM strength to strength," 
He leadeth me, 
The manna falleth day by day ; 
On angel's food He feedeth me. 
And guideth in the perfect way. 

"From strength to strength," I follow 
on, 

Not knowing what the day may bring ; 
Content to say "Thy will be done," 

I lift my cheerful voice and sing. 

"From strength to strength," what 
visions rise 

Of all the Father's boundless love! 
At every turn a new surprise 

Awaits me from my home above ! 



From Strength to Strength, 77 

"From strength to strength," what 
might is mine, 

In every conflict, every fear; 
Clothed in the panoply divine, 

O'er all my foes I triumph here. 

"From strength to strength," till life 
is past ; 
" From strength to strength " in 
heaven above; 
*' From strength to strength " the first 
and last, 
Till glory crowns a life of love. 



THY WILL BE DONE.^ 




H Y will be done, O Lord divine ! 
Thy will alone, and never mine, 
So shall my will be lost in Thine, 
Thy will be done. 



I may not understand my prayer, 
What it may cost the flesh to bear. 
What love may seek, or faith may dare 
Thy will be done. 

Thy loving wisdom may conceal 
The secret purpose of Thy will; 
But satisfied, I answer still, 

Thy will be done. 



1 " September 5, 1890, — anniversary of 
ing Hayes in 184S." 



my leav- 



Thy Will he Done, 79 

I only ask Thyself to know, 
And then obediently I go 
Through fire, or floods that overflow: 
Thy will be done. 

In life or death I ask no more 
But to obey Thee, and adore, 
And sing with angels evermore. 

Thy will be done. 



WELCOME, GRACIOUS 
SAVIOUR.i 




ELCOME, welcome, gracious 
Saviour, 
^ Welcome to ourdwelling-place! 
Here, if we have found Thy favor. 
Let the smilings of Thy face 

Rest upon us, 
As a cloud of glorious grace. 

Come as when to Martha's dwelling 
Thou didst seek a calm retreat. 

As when Mary, softly stealing, 
Sat in meekness at Thy feet : 

So in mercy, 
Bless us as we sit at meat. 

1 At a consecration. 



Welcome, Gracious Saviour. 8i 

And when round our altar bending 
Morn and eve Thy praise shall rise, — 

Young and old their homage blending, 
Wafting incense to the skies, — 

Let Thy pleading 
Mingle with their sacrifice. 



And whene'er in life's employments 
Busy cares demand our thought, 

Then, as when in full enjoyments, 
Let our toil with Thee be fraught; 

Let Thy blessing 
Ever rest upon our lot. 



And when friendly feet or stranger 
Seek awhile a place of rest, 

Here, refreshed and free from danger. 
May their tarrying. Lord, be blest 

With Thy presence. 
As our fixed abiding Guest. 



82 Welcome, Gracious Saviour. 

Welcome, welcome, gracious Saviour, 
Welcome to our dwelling-place ! 

Here, if we have found Thy favor, 
Let the smilings of Thy face 

Rest upon us. 
As a cloud of glorious grace. 




I LONG FOR REST. 

LONG for rest, for rest of soul, 
For something more than self- 
control; 
For something more than pride has 

sought 
In creed, or settlement of thought ; 
For something more than art can teach. 
Or hand of cultured science reach : 
I long for rest ; but find no goal 
Whereby to rest my weary soul. 

I long for rest ; yet not from strife 
With sin or weariness of life. 
My longing is a thirst that springs 
From tasting of diviner things; 



84 / Long for Rest. 

It is as though some absent friend 
Should some endearing token send, 
Which sets me all aglow to see, 
And bring him face to face with me. 

It is as when the moistened clay 
Upon the long-sealed eyelids lay; 
And to the opening vision light 
Brought sudden consciousness of sight, 
And men as trees went walking by. 
Trembling, I see the light ; but cry, 
** Yet touch mine eyes again, I pray, 
And bring me into perfect day! " 

I must have rest ! but rest must be, 

Christ, in knowing only Thee ! 
Not heaven itself can satisfy, 

Nor yet Thy grace my want supply. 
Love seeks no gift that does not bring 
The giver with the meaner thing; 

1 long for Thee, nor will I rest 
Until I lean upon Thy breast. 




•THE COMFORTER. 

O spread the tidings round, 
wherever man is found, 
Wherever human hearts and 
human woes abound ; 
Let every Christian tongue proclaim the 
joyful sound : 
The Comforter has come ! 
The Comforter has come, 
The Comforter has come ! 
The Holy Ghost from heaven, 
The Father's promise given. 

The long, long night is past ; the morn- 
ing breaks at last ; 

And hushed the dreadful wail and fury 
of the blast, 

As o'er the golden hills the day advances 
fast! 
The Comforter has come ! 



86 The Comforter. 

Lo, the great King of kings, with heah'ng 

in His wings, 
To every captive soul a full deliverance 

brings ; 
And through the vacant cells the song 

of triumph rings : 
The Comforter has come ! 

Oh, boundless Love divine! how shall 

this tongue of mine 
To wondering mortals tell the matchless 

grace divine, — 
That I, a child of sin, should in His 

image shine ! 
The Comforter has come ! 

Sing, till the echoes ^y above the 

vaulted sky. 
And all the saints above to all below 

reply, 
In strains of endless love, the song that 

ne'er shall die : 
The Comforter has come ! 




SEARCH ME, O GOD. 

EARCH me, O God ! my actions 
try, 
And let my life appear; 
As seen by Thine all-searching eye, 
To mine my ways make clear. 

Search all my sense, and know my heart, 
Who only canst make known. 

And let the deep, the hidden part 
To me be fully shown. 

Throw light into the darkened cells 
Where inbred passion reigns ; 

Quicken the conscience till it feels 
The filth of sin's remains. 



88 Search me, O God. 

Search all my thoughts, the secret 
springs, 

The motives that control. 
The chambers where polluted things 

Hold empire o'er the soul. 

Search, till Thy fiery glance has cast 

Its holy light through all ; 
And I by grace am brought at last 

Before Thy face to fall. 

Thus prostrate, I shall learn of Thee 

What now I feebly prove, 
How God in Christ alone can be 

Unutterable love ! 




THE SURRENDERED POWERS. 

OME, enter, Lord, and take Thy 
rest, 
Thou and Thy ark of strength ; 
And make the temple of my breast 
Thy dwelling-place at length. 

My life, my goods, myself I yield 

A cheerful sacrifice ; 
No fond desire that lay concealed 

But on Thine altar dies. 

I will be Thine with all my powers, — 
My memory, mind, and will; 

And all my consecrated hours 
Thy blessed service fill. 



90 The Surrendered Powers, 

I know how poor and worthless all, 

How weak the hand I lift ; 
But where the sprinkling blood shall fall, 

It sanctifies the gift. 

'T is done ! but wilt Thou condescend 
To make my heart Thy home. 

Call me, a sinful worm. Thy friend? 
O Jesus, quickly come ! 



SPECIAL SEASONS AND 
OCCASIONS. 




EASTER. 

ISE and sing, O Christians, 
sing! 
Christ is risen from the dead : 
Where, O Death, is now thy sting? 
Where, O Grave, is now thy dread? 

Christ is risen ; 
Christ is our triumphant head ! 



Rise and sing, O mourner, rise ! 

Christ is risen ; rise and sing ! 
Dry the tears from weeping eyes, — 

Every lip its tribute bring: 
Christ is risen ; 

Christ is our triumphant King ! 



94 Easter. 

Rise and sing, O penitent ! 

Hear the glad absolving word ; 
See ! the prison doors are rent, 

Peace to guilty souls restored : 
Christ is risen ; 

Christ is our triumphant Lord ! 

Rise and sing, till earth and heaven 
Blend in one grand Easter psalm : 

Unto us a Son is given, 

Unto Him the Conqueror's palm ! 

Christ is risen; 
Christ is our eternal psalm. 




HAIL THE BLESSED EASTER 
MORNING. 

AIL the blessed Easter morn- 
ing ! 
^ Hail the resurrection day ! 
Let the cavern ring with anthems 
Where the blessed Saviour lay. 
Shout His praises, saints in glory; 

Saints below, His praises sing! 
Men and angels, bow before Him, 
Christ, the everlasting King ! 

Hail the long-expected triumph ! 

Hail the victory o'er the grave ! 
Let the travail-bound creation 

Sing His mighty power to save. 
Vain the stone, the seal, the warden, 

Vain the hate of earth and hell ; 
Lord of Life ! His foes beneath Him 

His triumphal chorus sw€ll. 



96 Hail the Blessed Easter Morning. 

Hail thee, Master ! let our praises 

Be for plaited garland rare ; 
Let our best accepted tribute 

Be the voice of humble prayer; 
And upon our waiting spirits 

All thy new-raised glory shine. 
Filling now these earthly temples, 

Make our Easter all divine. 




LOVE'S EASTER. 

OVE has an Easter all her own ; 
And on the margin of the 
tomb, 

Where Death his fatal work has done, 
Puts on her brow perpetual bloom. 

Love conquers most when all is loss, 
Compelling victory from defeat; 

The shame, the agony, the cross, 

Are throne-steps for the victor's feet. 

Love sheds her tears that joys may flow, 
Holds closer bonds when friends 
depart ; 
Wards from her own the treacherous 
blow, 
And hides them in her constant heart. 
7 



98 Love's Easter, 

Love smiles at wrong, though that may 
kill; 

The strength of suffering is her boast ; 
Supreme, she holds her sovereign will 

By yielding to the uttermost. 

Love has an Easter all her own ; 

And o'er the grave where darkness 
lay, 
Triumphant lifts her august throne, 

Resplendent in eternal day. 




EASTER MORNING. 

ISE, my soul ! 't is Easter morn- 
ing ! 
Winter melting into spring ! 



Lo, the heaven and earth adorning 
Shines the glory of our King ! 
Christ is risen ! 
Let the world His triumph sing. 



All creation wakes to gladness, 
Grateful odors fill the air, 

Songs of praise dispelling sadness 
Rise upon the breath of prayer ! 
Christ is risen ! 

Winds and waves the burden bear. 



100 Easter Morning. 

Saints your floral tribute bringing, 

Early at the altar bow, 
While the joyous bells are ringing, 

Lo, the grave is vacant now, 
Christ is risen ! 
Put the crown upon His brow. 

Crown Him, crown Him, King of glory 
Seated on the Father's throne ! 

First in all redemption's story. 
Men and angels make it known, 
Christ is risen ! 

God and man in Christ made one. 




IN HIS NAME.i 

S in His name we meet to-day 

And in His name we part, 
We tarry at His feet, to say 
God keep us one in heart. 



For He who bids His servants go 
Appoints to each his place ; 

Nor can we doubt or darkness know 
Beneath His smiling face. 



So that the word of life is free, 
We gladly yield our own : 

Our only wish and boast to be 
That we may make it known. 

J At a King's Daughters' meeting. 



102 In His Name. 

Obedient answer to His will 
Knows neither East nor West ; 

So but His counsels we fulfil, 
Or here or there is best. 

Then let us rise and bless the Lord, 
And face whate'er may come ; 

It cannot be a doubtful word 
That brings us safely home. 




THANKSGIVING. 

^^>^RAISE from the laughing vales 
arise, 
Praise from the fruitful hills, 
Praise from the tops that kiss the skies ! 
His praise creation fills. 

The seasons bless His holy name, 
His goodness crowns the year ; 

Let every living thing proclaim 
His praises everywhere. 

But most of all, great God ! to Thee 

Let human praises rise, 
The incense of the bended knee, 

The grateful sacrifice. 



104 Thanksgiving. 

More than Thy gifts to man Thou art, 

More than his daily bread ; 
And more to Thee the human heart 

Than all Thy hands have made. 

Then praise to Thee, Thou God of love, 

From every human tongue. 
Till all the sounding courts above 

Are filled with human song, 




O THOU, OUR FATHER AND 
OUR FRIEND. 

THOU, our Father and our 

Friend ! 
Our grateful thanks to Thee 
we bring ; 
Thy name, on whom our souls depend, 
With cheerful voice we loudly sing. 

We praise the Lord for all our good, 
For all the blessings of Thy grace ; 

For friends beloved, for home and food, 
For health renewed and length of 
days. 

Thy hand hath blest the sower's toil, 
And filled our garners rich with grain ; 

Made kindly fruitful all our soil, 
Till hill and valley groan again. 



io6 O Thou, our Father and our Friend. 

The merchant smiling speeds his way, 
And spreads our flag on every 
shore ; 

While all the ocean owns its sway, 
And every nation feels its power. 



And freighted rich, from every land 
Our vessels come, with plenty stored ; 

As if in tribute to the hand 

That fights for freedom and for God. 



Oh that no voice of fettered slaves 

Might rise to mock that boastful 
strain ! 

Oh that where'er our banner waves 
It bore no self-polluting stain ! 



But gently. Father, gently deal, 

And spare us for the righteous' sake ; 

Perchance thy gospel yet may heal, 
And Pharaoh's arm let go — or break ! 



O Thou, our Father and our Friend. 107 

But still, our Father, thou art good ! 

And Thee we praise for all Thy grace, 
For friends beloved, for home and food, 

For health renewed, and length of 
days. 

1859. 




CHRISTMAS. 

HRIST is come, is come to earth ! 
Low the manger, mean His 
birth ; 

Son of David, royal seed, 
None of David's children heed : 
Only shepherds wondering gaze, 
Only strangers seek His face. 



Yet He comes of heaven adored. 
Hosts of angels chant Him Lord! 
Heaven's high arches swell the strain, 
*' Jesus comes on earth to reign: 
Wake ye, mortals, wake and see 
Love's divmest mystery ! " 



Christmas. 109 

Lo ! above, the wondrous star 
Guiding earnest feet afar, 
Shining clear, with cold, pale beams, 
O'er the humble stable gleams ; 
Only wise men see its light 
Struggling through the murky night. 



Gay and worldly see no sign 

In the infant face divine ; 

Child of way-bound traveller there, 

Why should gay and courtly care? 

Yet the wise men bend the knee, 

In the babe Messiah see. 



Haughty soul and lofty brow 
May not at the manger bow; 
Insentient pleasure may not wait 
Upon the stranger's mean estate ; 
Yet to waiting souls the morn 
Joyful hails the Saviour born. 



no Christmas, 

So He Cometh, ever comes, 
To our hearts and to our homes; 
Unobserved of pomp and pride. 
To the contrite sinner's side ; 
Smiles on those who eager seek. 
Makes His advent to the meek. 




BRING GIFTS. 

AVIOUR ! now in highest glory, 
Seated on Thy Father's throne, 
Help us as we sing the story. 
And Thy wondrous grace make 
known. 
When in meekness 
Thou didst come from glory down. 



Holy Spirit ! give Thy blessing. 
Show us all the Saviour's love, 

Who, the Father's love professing, 
Yet descended from above. 

Veiled in weakness, 
That His strength we all might prove. 



112 Bring Gifts, 

Father, breathe Thy benediction, 
Let us see Thee in Thy Son ; 

Let us know Thy great salvation, 
God and man in Christ made one. 

With the Father, 
See the glorious work begun ! 



Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, 
One in purpose, as in name; 

Only one in grace and merit. 
To-day, as yesterday, the same : 

All the Godhead 
Meeting in the blessed Lamb ! 



Bending lowly by the manger, 

We would bring Thee gifts to-day; 

Gladly hail the infant stranger, 
At His feet our homage lay. 

Blessed Jesus ! 
Take our hearts, we humbly pray. 




PEACE. 

ARK ! what mellow notes on 
high ! 
Peace, peace on earth ! 
Angels singing in the sky, 

Peace, peace on earth ! 
Hushed the sound and din of war, 
O'er our darkness, lo ! the star 
Shedding brightness from afar. 
Peace, peace on earth ! 

God and man are reconciled, 

Peace, peace on earth ! 
Through the Virgin's holy child, 

Peace, peace on earth ! 
Let us o'er the world proclaim 
Softest music in His name ; 
To bring peace on earth He came, 

Peace, peace on earth ! 



114 Peace. 

Healing balm for all our woes, 
Peace, peace on earth ! 

Weary wanderer's sweet repose, 
Peace, peace on earth ! 

Soothing for the troubled breast ; 

Oh, ye burdened and opprest, 

Jesus comes to give you rest. 
Peace, peace on earth ! 

Comes on earth to show us heaven. 
Peace, peace on earth I 

All our sins may be forgiven, 
Peace, peace on earth I 

The lion and the lamb lie down, 

Every angry passion gone ; 

Jesus comes to claim His own, 
Peace, peace on earth ! 



NEW YEAR. 



YEAR of hope, O day of 

grace, 
I hail thy happy dawning; 
I look into thy smiHng face, 

And bless the New Year's morning. 




The night has passed, the dreary night, 

The crucifixion ended ; 
I bathe in resurrection light, 

And rise with Christ ascended. 



I lay aside the rugged cross. 

The badge of shame and sorrow, 

And take the anchor for my crest. 
The pledge of bright to-morrow. 



ii6 New Year. 

Hope pierces through the mist and 
clouds, 

And leads where reason fails us ; 
And o'er the tomb that doubt enshrouds, 

Her conquering vision hails us! 

Then let her hand our footsteps guide, 
Her radiant smile beam o'er us ; 

With strength of heart no foot can slide, 
And such a face before us ! 

Thus, while the harmless billows roll, 
And tempest wild is screaming, 

Nothing shall shake my steadfast soul, 
On Hope's strong anchor leaning. 

year of hope, O day of grace, 
I hail thy happy dawning; 

1 look into thy smiling face. 

And bless the New Year's morning. 




A PSALM OP PRAISE. 

HY praise, O God, the new-born 
year 
On every opening page shall 
bear. 
And every day our song shall be 
A joyful anthem. Lord, to Thee. 

We know not what may lie before, 
But simply trusting evermore, 

We take Thy hand, outstretched to save. 
And meet the storm or walk the wave. 

Or should dismay our souls enshroud, 
We '11 call to mind the moving cloud ; 

And bending low beneath the blast, 
Be still, until the storm is past. 



ii8 A Psalm of Praise. 

To-day as yesterday the same, 

The rolling years Thy truth proclaim ; 

Nor can there be to-morrow's need, 
But Thou wilt give to-morrow's bread. 

Be Thine to choose, and ours to say 
Amen, with each returning day; 

So joyful shall we daily raise 
Our Ebenezers to Thy praise. 




THE OPENING YEAR. 

HEE first and last, my God, my 

King, 
The opening year Thy praise 
shall sing ; 
And while I tune my harp again. 
My soul repeats her glad Amen. 

I know not what may lie before, 

I only see an open door; 

I only feel a guiding hand 

As duty answers love's command. 

Better to me than open skies 
That hope is veiled in dim surprise ; 
Each day unfolding from above 
Some new, sweet mystery of Thy love. 



I20 The Opening Year. 

What if my vision could command 
The prospects of the opening land ; 
Would then my soul so closely cling 
To Thee, my Father and my King? 

Better my hand be still in Thine, 
Be lost my will in will divine ; 
Where can a child so safe abide 
As pressing to a Father's side? 

Then, first and last, my God, my King, 
The opening year Thy praise shall sing ; 
And each succeeding day shall be 
A fresh memorial, Lord, to Thee. 




MY SOUL LOOKS FORWARD TO 
THE HILLS. 

Y soul looks forward to the hills, 
From whence my health and 
strength are given ; 
And as the rising vision fills, 
I rise into a present heaven. 

The gulf of days or years between. 
Lies dark and low beneath my feet ; 

I look across the murky scene, 

And lo ! to faith the margins meet.' 

The world above and world below 
Are not divided by our years. 

But only severed as we throw 
The line between of guilty fears. 



122 My Soul looks forward to the Hills. 

Life is not measured by its length, 

But by the quality of life, 
And by the God-imparted strength 

That always conquers in the strife. 

The old is buried in the new; 

The new perennial as its spring. 
As clear as truth, as fresh as dew, 

Proclaims the praises of her King. 

The New Year dawns, the year of grace, 
I answer with undaunted brow ; 

And smiling meet her face to face, 
P'or love and duty ready now. 




A SILVER-WEDDING SONG. 

SONG of the olden time, 

A song of the long ago ; 
And the bells are ringing a 
silvery chime 
As over the years they go. 

A priest at the altar stands 
A youth and maiden before, 
So tremblingly, trustingly joining their 
hands 
For weal or woe evermore. 

The years flow on in their course, 
(Oh the swiftly flowing years !) 
And the measure is given for better or 
worse. 
For the sunshine and the tears. 



124 A Silver-Wedding Song. 

For life has no charmed sail 
That may bribe the wind and tide, 
And QYi\y the heart of the brave may 
prevail 
Where the fiercest currents ghde. 

Yet on through wind and sea, 
And on through the cloudy night, 
We have ploughed our way, and our 
prow to-day 
Is toward the land of light. 

We may have no silver sheen 
For our silver-wedding day; 
And the only crown that may crown us, 
Queen ! 
Are our locks of silver gray. 

Yet the tide flows onward still, 
And our bark is gliding sure ; 
For our love is true and our trust is new 
As the day when we left the shore. 



A Silver -Wedding Song 125 

And life has not all been vain, 
Nor without their fruit the years ; 
The losses have ever been less than the 
gain, 
And the smiling more than tears. 

And our name has taken wing. 
And among the angel throng 
It is joyfully heard by the mighty King 
As he bends o'er Mamie's song. 

And over the sea to-day 
Our noble son in his pride 
Stands, helm in hand, at the word of 
command 
To launch his bark with his bride. 

And for the rest, — one, two, three 
Olive boughs over the wall, — 
Can the home be poor, or be lone the 
door, 
Where such green branches fall ? 



126 A Silver -Wedding Song. 

Then let us keep heart, dear wife 1 
And sing if we cannot feast ; 
Abundance of love is abundance of life, 
And most may be in the least. 

We stood at the altar once. 
Let us stand there once again ; 
" For better, for worse," as we make 
response. 
Let it be the old refrain. 

We have crossed the silvery bar ; 
Who knoweth what lies before? 
It is a long way yet to the golden star, — 
Perhaps not to the golden shore ! ' 

So let us keep close, good wife, 
Through calm or stormy weather ; 
For nothing can part either hand or 
heart 
Whom God hath joined together. 




A BRIDAL MEMORY. 

HOSE marriage bells, how soft 
and slow 
The lingering echoes seem ; 
So long ago, so faint and low, 
Like murmurs of a dream. 

Yet hark again ! on fancy's ears 

Comes up the old refrain ; 
We leap the intervening years, 

And love is young again. 

And there we stand, while hand in hand 

The benediction falls ; 
The words are said, and we are wed, 

And life to duty calls. 



128 A Bridal Memory. 

September's sun in glory set, 

The twilight all aglow, 
As bride and bridegroom joyful met 

The call of long ago. 

The intervening years are gone. 

The busy, crowded train; 
But hand in hand we still are one 

For sunshine or for rain. 

September's glory crowns the year. 
As crowned that joyful day : 

They say we're not so young, my dear. 
Not quite so fresh as May ! 

Or is' it that the sward has lost 

Its springy tread of old ; 
Or that the mists of northern coast 

Have dimmed the burnished gold? 

Nay, not without are changes found ; 

We cannot cheat the truth; 
There is no life elixir found 

To bribe perpetual youth. 



A Bridal Memory. 129 

"■ Day unto day, and night to night," 

The endless song is sung: 
Maybe they learn, who sing it right, 

The art of growing young. 

Who meet the future day by day, 
With earnest hearts and true, 

Consult not milestones on the way. 
But good that they may do. 

The marriage bells, how soft and low 
Their lingering echoes seem ; ♦ 

So long ago, — so faint, and slow, 
Like memories of a dream ! 

Yet hark again ! on fancy's ears 

Comes up the old refrain ; 
W^e leap the intervening years. 

And love grows young again. 

1884. 




THEY SAY I'M THIRTY-FIVE.^ 

HIS is my birthday, lack-a-day ! 

As sure as I 'm alive ! 
And would you know my length 
of way? 
They say I 'm thirty-five ! 

I reckon too they 're partly right, 

Though it is hard to see 
How one with youthful heart so light, 

So very old can be. 



" So very old " ! why, how you talk ! 

I am no older now 
Than when in girlhood's heedless path, 

With sunshine on my brow. 

1 To M. B. on her birthday. 



They Say Pm Thirty-five. 131 

I 'm sure I 'm blooming just as fast 

As when the rosy blush 
In varying depth of crimson hue 

My maiden cheek would flush. 

'Tis true the bloom is not so red 

As bloom of former day ; 
The almond's springing up instead, 

And scattering silver spray. 

And surely silver veins are more 
Than rose-leaves' fading hue, — 

Why, gold to-day is fifty-four. 
And silver fifty-two. 

See how they shine, my hairs of gray, 
Just one, two, three or so ; 

Just like the flowers of early May, 
Or maybe — early snow. 

Well, let it fall ; it falls so light. 
The snow of passing years ; 

And falling once, it lies so bright, 
And never melts in tears. 



132 They Say rm Thirty-five. 

This is my birthday, lack-a-day ! 

As sure as I 'm alive ! 
And would you know how old I am? 

They say I 'm thirty-five. 



MEMORIAL AND OTHER 
VERSES. 




FADING FLOWERS. 

|HE young, the loved, the beau- 
tiful, 
Why must they pass away? 
Why must the flowers we love so well 
The earliest decay? 

Why must the gentle and the good 

Retrace their steps so soon? 
Why must the morning-glory hide 

Before the midday sun? 

Why must the balmy breath of spring 

The ruder breast elate 
With boisterous laughing health, but 
bring 

Death to the delicate? 



136 Fading Flowers. 

Why must the loud winds* revel wild 
Add freshness to the cheek, 

And strength of limb to mountain child, 
But blanch the fair and meek? 

The gentle, fair, and delicate, 

We love to have them so ; 
And yet for that we love them most 

They are the first to go ! 

Exotics of a fairer clime. 

They seek their native bed ; 
Too tender for a soil so hard 

As earth for them has spread. 

Opening sweetly, gentle flowers ! 

They catch the Master's eye ; 
And He, to bloom in heavenly bowers. 

Transplants them to the sky. 

The young, the loved, the beautiful, 

They early pass away. 
Because they cannot bloom and shine 

Where death's chill breezes play. 



Fading Flowers. 137 

O gentle Father ! Master good ! 

Help us to love and lose, — 
To trust Thee, when not understood ; 

To acquiesce, not choose ! 




DEATH IS SO STRANGE. 

THOU that countest not our 
days, 
Nor measurest life by length 
of years, 
Forgive our erring human ways 
If feeble trust is choked in tears. 

We bow before Thy just decree ; 

We can but bow for very grief: 
We know Thee good, but cannot see 

How ill can bring the heart relief. 

We cannot see the good from ill ; 

We cannot count the gain for loss; 
And oh, forgive, if Thy sweet will 

Becomes to us our heaviest cross. 



Death is so Strange. 139 

Death is so strange, we never grow 
Familiar with his silent tread ; 

Oft as he conies, we never know 
The meaning to be written — dead ! 

We only know that one has gone. 

And comes not back for love or hate; 

And so we gather close, and mourn 
An absence that makes desolate. 

Death is so strange ! and yet with them 
Is no more death, nor grief, nor pain ; 

Nor aught that marred life's fitful dream 
Can reach or trouble them again. 

Oh for that touch of Thine, dear Lord ! 

That gives the light to sightless eyes ; 
Oh for that knowledge of Thy word 

Before which doubt or darkness flies ! 

We lift our bleeding hearts to Thee, 
And, weeping, still would say. Amen ! 

What now we know not, we shall see 
Sometime, and we can wait till then. 




MAKE ROOM, YE ANGEL 
THRONG! 



AKE room, ye angel throng ! 
A servant at the gates, 
A child of sunshine and of song 
The Master's call awaits. 



No alien from the throne, 
No stranger to your King; 

A veteran with his armor on : 
Let heaven with praises ring. 

Laden with goodly spoil, 
No lingering on the way; 

Fresh from the conflict and the toil, 
He comes to endless day. 



Make Room, ye Angel Throng! 141 

Strike high your glad refrain ! 

You cannot strike a note, 
Nor sweep upon your harps a strain 

Which he remembers not. 

Speak in your native tongue, 
Your speech will not surprise; 

For long his cultured soul has known 
The language of the skies. 

Who, faithful unto death, 

Obedient lays him down, 
But changes, at his parting breath, 

His armor for his crown. 

Then take him to your trust, 
The faithful and the tried : 

The ways of God are right and just ; 
Let man be satisfied. 




FIVE WATCHMEN FROM THE 
WALLS. 

IVE watchmen from the walls, 

Five workmen from the field, 
Five warriors at the trumpet's 
call, 
In death, obedient yield. 

No murmur seals their breath, 

No dark, desponding word ; 
But through the sounding courts of death 

They triumph in their Lord. 

Brush back the falling tear, 
Beat down the heaving sigh ; 

List ! as they fall, what words of cheer: 
" Press on to victory ! " 



Five IVatclwien from the Walls, 143 

Close up the ranks, ye hosts ! 

With quicker, firmer tread, 
Since these the stormy waves have 
crossed 

In safety with their Head. 

We go from strength to strength, 

Each at his Master's will, 
But every one appears at length 

With Him on Zion's hill: 

At morn or noon or eve, 

No matter which or where, 
So but the word the Master gives, — 

His glory crowns us there ! 



IN MAMIE'S MEMORY. 




'E had a little pet, so bright and 
passing fair, 
To our devoted hearts so like 
a thing of air; 
We did not speak of her as of other 

earthly things, 
But' called her ''Little Angel, — our 
angel without wings." 

She danced about our hearthstone, she 

dandled on our knee. 
Prattling from morn till night, brimful 

of childish glee : 
Her smile might be to others as other 

smiling things. 
But to us 'twas as an angel's smile,— 

''our angel without wings." 



In Mamie's Memory. 145 

There might not, to others, be wisdom 

in her words, 
Nor music in her voice, Hke the music 

of the birds ; 
But to us that harp had tones unreached 

by other strings, — 
'Twas our sweet angel harping, — " our 

angel without wings." 



We did not know the sound, but won- 
dered at the power 

Which struck the chords so deep in 
childhood's early hour; 

We clasped her to our bosom, with fear 
which fondness brings, 

And called her Angel baby, " our angel 
without wings." 



" Alamie get her wings, papa," the angel 

said, one day; 
*• Mamie be an angel, if papa go away ! " 
10 



146 In Mamie's Memory. 

We clasped her to our bosom, as love 

in danger clings, 
'' O God ! " we cried, " preserve Thou 

our angel without wings." 

Trustfully we left her, with kisses to 

beguile, 
The bodings of our yearning hearts 

admonishing the while, 
As of careless hands unbidden, stirring 

secret springs ; 
So, tremblingly, we left her, — ** our 

angel without wings." 

Brightly as the sun shone, more brightly 

still she smiled ; 
Happy was the livelong day, happier 

the child; 
Now weary with her gambols, still 

cheerily she sings, 
*' I want to be an angel," — ** our angel 

without wings." 



In Mamie's Memory. 147 

Gentle spirits listen to songs of heaven 

on earth ; 
Gentle spirits came down to give her 

spirit birth ; 
So out upon the noonday her mortal 

robes she flings, 
And Mamie is an angel, — our angel, 

now, with wings. 



HEAVEN AND EARTH, HOW 
WIDE APART. 




;EAVEN and earth, how wide 
apart, 
And yet how close their gates ; 
For all that links them is the heart. 
And all that separates. 

There come among us angel forms ; 

We know not till they go 
How much of Heaven is lost with them 

How much is left below. 

Their presence kindled in our hearts 

A fire that cannot die ; 
Their absence to that fire imparts 

Fiercer intensity. 



Heaven and Earth, how Wide Apart. 149 

They came, they went ; we follow on 
Where they have led the way ; 

And we shall pass, as they have done, 
The open gates of day. 

So let us weep, but weeping, keep 
The prize which love has given : 

What we are called to lose on earth 
We find again in heaven. 




A BURNING AND A SHINING 
LIGHT. 

BURNING and a shining light, 
A hvjng record, known and 
read; 

Though seeming quenched in mortal 
night, 
A holy life is never dead. 

Elijah mounts his car of fire, 

But drops his mantle on his son; 

And martyrs from the funeral pyre 
Shout from the flames the victory won. 

Thick darkness fell upon the day 

Christ yielded up the ghost, and died ; 

But laughter turned to wild dismay 
As rose again the Crucified. 



A Burning and a Shining Light. 151 

So, living in her holy deeds, 

So, hving in our loving thought, 

Our sister rises from the weeds 

That weeping hands have round her 
wrought. 

Her living faith, her burning words. 
Her pure desire, untouched by shame. 

Her love for souls, which, like her Lord's, 
Consumed itself in deathless flame, — 

These all are ours; and ours to weep, 
But not as those whose hopes decay : 

We come with tears and smiles to keep 
A burial and a bridal day. 




THE EMPTY ROOMS.^ 

TTTLE Lulu came and went; 
Came, and brought us smiles 
for tears ; 
Came when sorrow lowly bent 
O'er the grave of infant years. 

Came, and opened in our hearts 

A room which none unlocked before, 

Occupied it all alone, 

Would not open Eddie's door. 

Little Eddie, as he passed, 

Shut the door and turned the key ; 
And it standeth ever fast : 

Little Lulu let it be. 

1 In memory of a friend's second child; both 
children died in 1861. 



The Empty Rooms. 153 

Little Lulu stayed awhile, 

Strewed sweet rosebuds on the floor, 
Answered some one with a smile, 

Then went out and shut her door. 

Some one called, and Lulu rose; 

Was it little Eddie's hand, 
As we saw the shutter close. 

Beckoning to the better land? 

So they came, and so they went, — 
Made us rich, but left us poor; 

But the riches from us rent 
Open wider heaven's door. 

Now two rooms are vacant here, 
None may enter either door. 

Love and Hope are wardens there, 
Keeping vigil evermore. 




PHILIP EMBURY.i 

OD of our fathers, here we raise 
A monument of grateful praise, 
To bear his name who early 
bore 
The gospel message to our shore. 

No priestly fingers pressed his head. 
Nor written parchments bade him speed ; 
But from the throne of God there came 
Upon his breast a hallowed flame. 

The will of God his sole desire, 
The souls of men his only hire, 
He sought his ministry to prove 
By deeds of all-constraining love. 

1 At the unveiling of a monument to Philip 
Embury at Cambridge, Mass., 1873. 



Philip Embury. 155 

And lo ! to-day a countless throng 
Bear to the winds their joyful song; 
And while they march the paths he 

trod, 
They bless the name of Embury's God. 




REST AWHILE.i 

USY toiler, hark ! the Master 
Bids thee come and rest 
awhile ; 

Eager feet will run the faster 
That have felt His cheering smile: 

Let His presence 
Every weary thought beguile. 

Lo, the desert, like a garden, 

Buds and blooms with fruit and 
flower, 
While the song-birds watch and warden 
Keep through all the joyful hour; 

And the heavens 
Show the Father's love and power. 

1 At a meeting of City Missionaries at Forest 
House, near London, 1877. 



Rest Awhile, 157 

Give the day to feast and singing, 
Give your hearts to joyful praise, 

Till through all the welkin ringing 
Rise and swell your roundelays: 

Who is joyful, 
If not he who works and prays? 



Then away, to love and duty, 
Where the weary waste of life 

Crushes everything of beauty 
In the race of sin and strife : 

Full of pity, 
Give them more abundant life. 



Strength to-day for toil to-morrow. 
So the Master bids you go, 

Gaining health for healing sorrow, 
Gathering seed that you may sow 

Toil or pleasure, 
Only Him on earth to know. 



158 Rest Awhile. 

So at length, when, labor ended. 
Dawns the long unbroken rest. 

Shall the friendless and befriended 
Nestle close in Jesus' breast: 

As at even 
Seeks the weary bird its nest. 




LEAVES FROM AN OLD LOCUST- 
- TREE. 

HEY are leaves from the bough 
of the old locust-tree, 
From the tree by the porch 
where the old door swung, — 
The door of the homestead that opened 
to me, 
And first with my laughter and merri- 
ment rung. 

They are faded, you say, and seared in 
the book 
That presses them fondly as treasures 
untold ; 
Ah, no ! not to me has the freshness 
forsook. 
Nor dimness come over the finest of 
gold. 



1 60 Leaves from an old Locust-tree. 

They lift the dark veil that falls over the 
past, 
And bring up anew the departed and 
lost, 
For memory has written in colors that 
last 
Every step that in childhood my 
dancing feet crossed. 

I hear them, I see them, — loved voices 
and forms. 
Every room in the house as it used to 
be then. 
Ere the blight had come down, and the 
storm of all storms 
Had laid low the strongest and noblest 
of men. 

Ah me ! what a blight, as the silence of 
night 
Came down on my soul, and I knew 
the first pain, 



Leaves from an old Locust-tree. i6i 

As I crossed the broad sill and looked 
out with the fright 
Of a fatherless child and a desolate 
brain. 



Do you chide me for weeping afresh as 
I see 
These fading reminders of days that 
are gone? 
There 's healing, they say, in the tears 
that flow free ; 
Then chide not their falling, but let 
them rain on. 



The world cannot be what it once was 
again, 
But I would not forget even that which 
is lost ; 
For I hold that a picture must ever 
remain, 
Where truth was the artist, and love 
was the cost. 
II 



1 62 Leaves from an old Locust -tree. 

I hold it, this branch of the old locust- 
tree, 
As a friend holds the hand of a friend 
in his need. 
'T is useless to say what its leaves are 
to me. 
What meaning have words but to 
those who can read? 



There are signs which none can inter- 
pret but love, 
There are seals which no man can 
open but he 
Whose own hand the mystery skilfully 
wove, 
And alone knows the number that 
turneth the key. 

So let me alone in my grief, if you 
please, 
For grief has its pleasure which noth- 
ing else gives, 



Leaves from an old Locust-tree. 163 

And loss maketh lasting possession of 
these, 
And evergreen joy in my poor faded 
leaves. 




THE BANNER OF THE KING. 

HROW your banner " In His 
Name," 
Out upon the New Year's 
wing; 
Far and wide your Lord proclaim, 
Sons and daughters of the King. 

Bear your heads erect, and meet 
The rising day with open hand ; 

Kind of speech and swift of feet, 
Scatter sunshine o'er the land. 

Yours the broken heart to heal, 
Yours the load of grief to share ; 

Who their neighbor's woe can feel, 
Find their mission anywhere. 



The Banner of the King. 165 

Yours the wayward heart to win, 
Yours the outcast to reclaim ; 

Yours to lift the child of $in 
From the burden of her shame. 

Pure of heart and clean of thought, — 
Life without and life within, — 

Like a garment richly wrought, 
Fit for angels or for men. 

Royalty in royal love, 

Royalty in loving deed ; 
Show your lineage from above. 

In the broadness of your creed. 

Catch the music of your song 
From the theme the angels sing: 

Fainter notes than they prolong 
Are unworthy of your King. 

Free as air the hope you raise ; 

Strong as light the truth you hold ; 
Christ's the everlasting praise, 

One the flock, within one fold. 



1 66 The Banner of the King. 

Bow the knee, exalt the Son ! 

Wrong and hate before Him fall; 
Let His will on earth be done, 

God and Father over all ! 

Sons and daughters of the King, 
In the spirit of His word. 

Joyful on the New Year's wing 
Throw the banner of your Lord. 



